


boy with a toy (want to say a prayer for you)

by kuro49



Series: the deep end of the pool [6]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Community: dckinkmeme, Fucky Mentor/Sidekick Relationship, Jason Todd is Robin, M/M, Public Blow Jobs, Sex Toys Under Clothing, Sexual Favors as Apology, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:02:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27371620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuro49/pseuds/kuro49
Summary: Even Bruce's punishments are all wrapped up in pleasure.
Relationships: Jason Todd/Bruce Wayne
Series: the deep end of the pool [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1987336
Comments: 4
Kudos: 101





	boy with a toy (want to say a prayer for you)

**Author's Note:**

> i'm sure there is a better tag for using sexual favours to appease someone who is more or less a guardian to you. it's not quite grooming but i don't think it's entirely sexual abuse either. regardless, this is that kind of fic.
> 
> written for [this absolute god-tiered dckinkmeme](https://dckinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/1454.html?thread=2295470): One of the sidekicks discards all their mentor's trackers. The mentor responds by inserting a tracker either attached to a vibrating bullet or via a sound.
> 
> written to the tunes of The Marías - Care For You.

For punishment, it's frankly plenty pleasurable. 

But he isn't about to admit that to Batman. Especially not after the verbal strip down he's gotten after he ignored the man’s orders not once, not twice, not even thrice, but four separate times in one evening patrolling Gotham with Two-Face loose from Arkham. He’s heard enough stories of the first Robin’s run-in with Harvey Dent to know he doesn’t have a particularly soft spot for birdies like them.

Each of Dick's scars from that encounter is a cautionary tale on their own.

It isn’t like he doesn’t get it. 

He does, more than Bruce thinks. He has no intention of being made an example of. It is why he's trying so hard to be good now. Why he is taking Bruce's punishments without any of the usual lip he gives even when he is standing on shaky legs, feeling like some kind of newborn fawn with every other word stumbling out to be bracketed by a moan he's trying his best to bite back.

Short of biting his lips bloody, Jason's voice still hitches as he squirms right where he stands within the shadow of Batman. "B-boss, can we please go home n-now?"

Batman glances down, and Robin cannot see his eyes through the cowl but he can see the way his mouth is pulled into a thin flat line of indifference. "Are you sure that's what you really want? Sure you don't want to go crawling in the sewers after Killer Croc all by yourself?"

Of all the expressions Batman can give his Robin, this one feels especially punishing when it is blatant disappointment in place of anger.

Anger, Jason knows. He's dealt with that on his own since the time when he was way younger than now. "I said I'm sorry, B." Robin says again, this time quieter.

"Are you?"

Robin makes a soft noise, a little huff while his hands are curled into tight fists on each side of him. He is trying to maintain a scowl but it is pulling closer and closer to a wobbling pout. "I a-am, I _swear_ to you."

With the two of them standing so close together, Jason can hear the audible click coming from within Batman’s cloak before it happens: From the lowest setting all the way to the highest. 

The vibrations wracks up in intensity without pause. 

And it takes all of his training combined that Robin doesn't go right down to his knees.

He sucks in a sharp audible inhale and nearly forgets to exhale all together with how tight his body is coiled around the vibrator bullet seated deep within him. Jason tries to breathe around it but all he can feel is the way he involuntarily clenches down even when there's nothing more than just the one toy that Bruce briskly pressed inside of him with just enough lube but barely any prep at all just before patrol started.

Jason doesn't know what it is about the situation, maybe it is the utter humiliation at knowing that Barbara is working the comms tonight and that the only reason why Robin's location is blinking up on her map of Gotham is because he has the tracker inside of him, shifting with every step and run and jump he's made so far tonight, rubbing so insistent over his prostate on every pass as he tries to catch up to Batman without making it obvious that he is feeling it very, _very_ much.

Robin is a live wire made exposed, electricity running rampant through him.

All of his focus is drawn to that one point and a green gloved hand goes to press down against his lower abdomen like he can somehow stop the vibrations through his gut. Like it's Bruce's cock when buried balls deep inside of him and they can both see how his stomach bulges with the size of it. And he can be squeezing down all he wants but there is nothing more than just the one toy that's been placed inside of him.

Another click and the intensity comes down a notch.

“So you say you’re sorry.” Batman repeats, glancing down as Robin comes closer to him on a whimper. “But I’m not convinced. You discarded every last one of the trackers I put on you, specifically for your own good. If it takes putting in a permanent tracker inside of you to keep you safe, I will do it whether you like it or not.”

It is all of those words used simultaneously that wrenches a reaction out of him.

It makes him want to cry. Loud and ugly and with big fat drops of tears and probably a fair amount of snot too.

He never wants to scare Bruce like that. He thinks he gets it too if Bruce does decide to put a permanent tracker inside of him. He thinks he really wouldn't mind it at all. It is having been alone for so long with no one to care for him. A great big carving taken out of him that yearns and yearns but never did quite get any of that love he craved. It is being faced with that same care now. Having it in abundance and in excess, all of it in focus on him and him alone.

Robin comes up to Batman's chest and the emblem of the Bat makes him feel another rush of emotions. He murmurs another apology against the Kevlar and the leather. After all, the man just wants to keep him safe and sound. It's only natural. It's only normal. 

Discipline comes with the territory, it comes with love.

Even Bruce's punishments are all wrapped up in pleasure.

"Give me one more chance, B." Robin pulls back an inch with another loud sniffle, rubbing at his nose with the back of a green gloved hand. "Let me show you. I'm sorry, I really am."

When Robin goes down to his knees this time around, he goes down willingly. Batman lets him. Even widens his stance for him when Jason's hands go reaching for the secret catches in Batman's suit and the hidden zipper to release his cock.

He wets his lips with a slow swipe of his tongue, his eyes trailing from the crown to the shaft to the base where he's got his hands wrapped all the way around. He squeezes down gently for that deep low exhale let out from between Batman's teeth. It may be out of character but it is a very familiar sound to come out of the man when taken out of the suit. This, Jason knows. This, Jason's good at.

This, Jason's done for Bruce time and time again to know exactly how the man likes it.

He opens wide for the first blunt press inside, lets it push against the soft stretch of his cheek where it protrudes obscenely. He works his tongue around the intrusion as he pulls back until only the head remains resting on the red plush of his bottom lip. He doesn't rush it, he wants Bruce to feel good. He laps at Bruce's cock until it is dripping in spit, pumps it in and out of the cavern of his mouth on shallow thrusts.

The way his lips come to wrap around Bruce is all soft and warm and wet as he sucks hard enough to hollow out his cheeks.

Batman eases a hand into Robin's hair, the wind-tousled strands being entangled between Batman's fingers. Each one feeling big and thick and strong the way his palm can encase the whole of Jason's skull, the way he could just force him on his cock if he wanted to. Even if Jason wouldn't mind it if he does.

Except he never does.

Batman always allows Robin to take his cock at his own pace.

It is the same when they are in the middle of Bruce's bed with Jason reaching back behind him to guide Bruce's cock to his hole, all prepped and stretched so he can ride him with both hands finding purchase against Bruce's bare chest. It is very much the same thing when Bruce has him pinned against the wall, one knee hooked over an arm, the other over a shoulder, where Jason is properly folded into two and every drop is controlled by gravity and every thrust is on the command of Jason's fingernails scratching up along Bruce's back.

He sinks down with his mouth, breathing loudly around Bruce's erection as it fills his throat.

Bruce is kind but not kind enough to keep the vibrator on the same setting. Jason doesn't hear the click this time, a little distracted by working his mouth around Bruce. So when it changes, goes up by one, Jason gives a whole body jerk that almost has him choking on the cock still nestled inside of his throat. He swallows around it with difficulty and Bruce groans above him at the sensation of how tight he goes.

Jason tries to keep his hips still where he is kneeling on the ground, his knees digging painfully on the grout of the rooftop tiles. There is no give here. The toy keeps shifting, rubbing him raw from the inside out. There is the insistent burst of pleasure each time it comes close to where he wants it the most, and it almost feels like heaven except there is another click and then there is the change that gets the toy jolting at a different speed again. He moves his hips, desperate for relief, the pressure of his own hard length still inside the tight fit of his uniform.

All of it comes together to wear down the last of his attempts to focus on Bruce and just Bruce alone.

It makes for a pretty lousy apology if he still has a clear head on him. But he thinks Bruce will forgive him for this too.

Because the man is close, and Jason can tell just from the way Bruce breathes above him, the sounds made louder and harsher and ragged through the voice modulator in the cowl. Jason is drooling messily around Bruce's cock, spit dripping from the seam of his lips stretched taut around the girth. He sinks down lower, takes him in deeper until the thick crown of his cock is spreading his throat opened in a shy imitation of what he truly wants from the other end.

Where he is twitching around barely anything but feeling it all too keenly with the way the toy just keeps teasing him closer and closer to the edge but never over.

He breathes in through his nose, and the exhale is a wet soppy sound from the slit of space between his mouth and the shaft of Bruce's cock soaked in his saliva.

Bruce never warns him as he gets close, he never has to. Jason closes his eyes underneath the domino mask as he feels the tightening grip of Bruce's hand in his hair, the creak of that leather, the drag of Bruce's cock until just the crown is resting over the soft flesh of his tongue.

The flood of Bruce's orgasm comes over him, spilling white and hot to coat every inch within.

It's a lot, feeling like too much when Jason has to bring a hand up to his chin to catch the overflow of Bruce's cum from dripping down to the ground. He swallows thickly, and the taste goes down bitter. He makes a low noise at it too, at how it cloys and sticks to the back of his throat. Flushed from the tips of his ears down to his throat, his lips are a shiny bright red, swollen from use and looking downright debauched when he opens up with a drop of his jaw where he's sore and tender.

Showing off the fact that he's swallowed it all.

"Thank you, son." Bruce's murmur comes from up above and they never say any names when they are still in uniform but this is close, feels a lot like he's whispering Jason's name.

It feels perfect really, save for the toy still turned on and vibrating inside of him.

At the back of Jason's head, he thinks he wants to protest that, the way it is still working him over, pulsating louder than even his own heart beat thundering inside of his chest. He thought he's made his apology clear. On his knees at that too. It has him keening loud enough to surprise even himself.

A green gloved hand to his mouth and it muffles the tail end of that needy desperate sound.

"I know you're sorry." Batman remains the same stoic figure that he always is but he is also reaching down to pick up Robin up from the ground to wrap him in his arms. "Only until we get home, okay? Just in case we encounter anything, I can't have my Robin getting lost."

Jason takes a second to take in every last one of those words before he nods. He's glad Bruce can tell that he is truly sorry for not seeing how the man only wanted to care for him. Despite the toy still in him, he knows Bruce forgives him.

Another nod in finality and Robin is tipping his head to rest it against the curve of Batman's neck.

Robin breathes in and it is the musk of Batman in his lungs. He swallows and it's the taste of Bruce's release in every crevice of his mouth and throat. He blinks and it's the sight of the Bat regalia that he curls up against. Jason is wrung out, and he isn't even used or bruised or a myriad of other different things that he could be. A tilt of his hips and it's a grind against the heel of Bruce's palm.

A moan and it's the sound of Bruce's name deconstructed in answer.

"That's my boy," Bruce says, and it's all Jason knows. It's not the toy, it's the tracker inside of it.

Or, that's what Jason keeps telling himself.


End file.
